


how do you tell a girl you really like her eyes (when you kind of want to kill her)

by UselessLesbianLaughter



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Drunk Dialing, Drunk Voicemail, Drunken Confessions, Drunkenness, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Friends to Enemies to Lovers, Gratuitous Smut, Hate Sex, Ignoring Crisis, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Post-Season/Series 04, Smut, SuperCorp, Voicemail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21923797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UselessLesbianLaughter/pseuds/UselessLesbianLaughter
Summary: Lena spends Christmas Eve alone. Kara spends it with family but it feels as good as spending it alone. Wine as a mixer for Aldebaran rum leads to some ill-advised radically honest voicemails.Two lonely Christmas Eves.Betrayed and angry but above all lonely and with a little help from champagne, Lena shows up on Kara's doorstep clutching mistletoe.One New Year's kiss.A very bad, no-good, horrible idea and several strawberries on Kara's neck later, the world as they know it has ended. When everything is wrong, what's left? When all the world's horses and all the world's men, couldn't put the world back together again, who's to blame and who's to make amends?Post S4 but ignoring Crisis
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 13
Kudos: 131





	1. sunday morning will save us all; that was the whiskey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, elle--nic on tumblr for beta reading!
> 
> TW: alcohol, drunkenness

Fine whiskey trickling into a glass was like music for those spending Christmas Eve alone. During the winter months, sunlight was scarce but wasn’t it George Bernard Shaw who called whiskey liquid sunshine?

Lena was inclined to agree, the smooth liquid sliding down her throat quite enough to keep her warm and give her footsteps the lightness they’d been lacking. She wasn’t counting glasses but God knew this wasn’t her first. Her sullen mood was fading ever so slightly as her head grew lighter, so much so that a ghost of a smile was creeping onto her lips, lifting her cheeks that still held drying tears, tinged crimson with the cold of the night.

She tilted the last of her drink into her mouth and went inside to pour herself some more. The warmth of her office in stark contrast to the freezing winds its balcony was subject to stung for a moment.

She stumbled around in the dark, reluctant to turn on the lights as they felt all too much just now.

“Aren’t you going to go home, Miss Luthor?” she mocked one of her more brazen employees, “it’s Christmas,” she sneered and twirled the whiskey in her glass. Home? What did that even mean? She was Lena Luthor, she had no home. She was the cat who walked by herself and all places were alike to her.

The penthouse? She’d hardly spent time there since arriving in National City all those years ago, if only to sleep at night. Or home as in this sacred institution everyone went on and on about during the cursed holiday season, the family house where everyone came together? What a filthy lie that was! Anyone who believed in such a thing was a fool, oh, just like she’d been this time last year. Nothing but a smokescreen devised for people who liked lying to themselves, too weak to embrace the truth.

She set down the glass, empty yet again, and wrapped her arms around herself, staring into the starless night sky towering above National City, the city lights dancing in front of her eyes, the dark deserted office windows contrasting against the beaming apartments, all so jolly, decked in bright lights, merry with celebration. And down below she knew the streets were bustling, all those joyful faces, all those ads in bright colours, the signs on shop windows hoping to make a profit; clubs, bars and pubs with holiday-themed events and shots downed by patrons expecting no gifts under their trees, not from friends nor family. Were it not for her reputation, she’d be glad to join them in their drunken endeavors.

Opening the door to the balcony again, she braced herself for the cold and crossed her arms. She’d pay it no mind, she could be just as merry alone in the cold as long as she had her one true friend by her side, enough whiskey to kill a sailor. She was, in fact, so merry the tears could not help but fall. She wiped them away but it was to no use, each she brushed from her cheek would be replaced by another.

In another part of town, in an apartment decked in red and green, with candles lit by the windowsills and smiling faces all around, there was one that couldn’t force a smile for the life of her, seeking refuge in the privacy of her restroom, sunken to the floor by the bathtub, twirling a glass of white wine in her hand with a bottle of it set next to her. The wine was more of a mixer for the Aldebaran rum she didn’t fancy the taste of by itself.

She shifted to reach the phone in her back pocket. Its screen with all its bright icons flickered alive and Kara speed-dialled Lena, tentatively lifting the phone to her ear. She waited through the agonizing ringing. She wasn’t expecting Lena to pick up, she never did these days. The call went to voicemail, a familiar long beep and message.

“You’ve reached Lena Luthor, leave a message.”

“Hey!” Kara chirped, “Hi,” a tight-lipped smile, “I know you’re not answering my calls right now. I get it. I just like hearing your voice,” she finished off her glass, “I miss your voice. I miss you. Do you miss me? Probably not. You know I can’t, I can’t stop thinking about you. Like,” she chuckled, “a little too much. You’re so,” her brow furrows in thought, trying to find the right word, “special. I knew that, I knew that when I first met you. Remember that day? Probably not. You know I wouldn’t,” she shook her head, “I would not have become a reporter without you. I was so… flustered that day. Here I am in the office of National City’s most powerful woman, just tagging along with my cousin, and you were wearing that red top and I just thought, she’s gorgeous,” she laughs and tilts the bottle to her mouth, “not that, not, uh, you know. I mean, maybe. A little bit,” she snorted, paused, and giggled, “I mean, if you ever wanted to,” she begins to say but stops herself, “what was I saying?”

A long silence. Kara drank.

“Right!” her eyes lit up with a sudden drunken clarity, “I need to stop thinking about you,” she said in a mock-serious voice, “but I can’t!” she laughed but her laughter faded as it stopped being funny, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m sorry. I guess you know things are bad when you’re calling your ex-best friend from the bathroom floor. You’re the only person that, that I want to be with right now. Everyone’s here and I should,” she popped her tongue, “I think I should be happy. But I’m not. Not without you. I’m sorry, I’m drunk. This was a bad idea. Call me. Or don’t.”

She set the phone down already knowing she’d wake up to regret leaving that voicemail but instead of trying to figure out a way to delete it, she took another swig of the bottle, got up off the floor, splashed her face with cold water and went back to the party, no less overwhelming now than it was before but maybe just a little more bearable with each sip. She doesn’t pick up her phone again, doesn’t check it once until she’s closed the door after her last guest. By then it’s quite late as the party dragged on well into the night, and Kara finds herself exhausted.

She heads for bed. Only there, cuddled up to a childhood plushie she’d never admit she still kept around, did she check her phone again.

Moments later, Lena, having stumbled home, picked up her phone. Its screen lit up the whole room, illuminating the pre-decorated walls that barely qualified for a stock photoshoot. She checked her voicemail. An automated voice spoke up.

“You have _one hundred sixteen_ new messages. First message received at _8:06 P.M. November 17 th.”_

Lena was well aware of all the unopened voicemails Kara had left her over the past months and she didn’t intend to listen to them, not tonight, not ever. Still, her curiosity peaked at the voicemails left just tonight, two of them, one just a minute ago. She pressed play on the earlier one, a loud beep pierced the silence, followed by Kara’s drunken rambling.

_“Call me! Or don’t.”_

“End of message. To replay, press _1_. To save, press _2_. To delete, press _3_ …… Message deleted. Next message received at _2:07 A.M.”_ The automated voice was followed by another loud beep and Kara’s drunken voice started up again. She began to say something but only a sniffle came out.

“I wish you would,” she sighed, “I wish you would get off my mind. I haven’t felt this broken in a long time. That day in your office with Clark, I knew I was going to love you. And you told me a thousand times, don’t. And everyone else did, too. Don’t get too close. You’ll burn yourself. But I, I,” a soft pause, “I couldn’t help it. What can I say? And you told me, I know, I know, you told me. These are the rules, don’t, don’t fucking lie to me. Don’t break my trust. Don’t be like everybody else. And that’s… that was all that you asked for. And I, I thought I could,” she trailed off, “I don’t know what I thought. That I could be different? You know, I was a fool. I was so,” she mumbled, “drunk on you. And then it got,” she bleated the following word, like laughter but unpleasant, “bad.”

There was a long pause and Lena anticipated an automated voice to follow, instead, Kara spoke up again.

“Have you ever been in love?” Kara whispered, “have you? Who am I kidding, you’re never going to listen to this. You’re never going to call me back. Whatever. I have. I think. I don’t know, I’m not sure. The poets are wrong!” she laughed, though it wasn’t happy, “or maybe they’re right, I was never that keen on poetry. You probab-” she stuttered, “probably know better. It’s not wonderful. It’s terrible!” Kara paused.

Lena heard a shuffle from the other end of the line before she continued.

“It’s torture, I think. What else could it be? It aches. It burns. It makes you feel stupid because everybody, everybody,” she dragged out her words, “told you it’d burn, and you didn’t listen. Because you were stupid! Good Rao, I’m stupid!” She laughed. It was not a nice sound.

Kara’s voice grew sleepy.

“I always wanted to know real love,” she yawned, “I never thought it’d be like this. Be careful what you wish for, I guess. Goodnight, Lena. I care about you too much. Goodnight. I’m sorry.”

Something cracked on the other end of the line, a glass bottle, there were a few more seconds of shuffling and then the line died.

“End of message. To replay, press _1_. To save……Message deleted.”


	2. revenge is a dish best served hot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It took me a while to get to editing this but I think it's coherent now, cheers.
> 
> TW: sex/hate sex, penetration, oral, alcohol

Kara was alone on New Year’s Eve, not for a lack of invitations but for a lack of interest in all of them. She deserved to spend this night moping alone, she thought. Even in a crowd of people, she knew, she’d still feel all alone so why bother?

That was until there were two gentle knocks on her apartment door, seconds apart. She’d told everyone not to bother her, so who else could it be but Alex, insistent on not letting her mope alone, a sweet gesture but rather pesky at this time. Still, Kara went to open the door, only to find it wasn’t Alex after all.

It was Lena, leaning on the doorframe, a half-empty bottle of champagne in one hand, lowered, mistletoe in the other, above her head, with a half-smile on her lips and a sultry look in her eyes, almost dangerous. She was wearing a red top Kara recognized, underneath that an uncharacteristically short black skirt and heels. They sucked all the air out of Kara’s lungs and suddenly she found herself unable to breathe, let alone speak, save for a breathless,

“Fuck.”

“I thought you liked the top,” Lena said, faux pouting.

Kara tried to keep her eyes where they were supposed to be, she really tried, but they kept dropping down to her neckline. She tried so hard, in fact, that she couldn’t get out a word after that. All she knew to do was to stare, dumbfounded.

“You said, if you’d ever like to. Well, I’d like to. Feel free to invite me in or shut the door whenever you make up your mind,” Lena said, still clutching the mistletoe in her hand, holding it above their heads, giving it a tiny shake after she was finished speaking as if to cap off her sentence.

Kara stared at her for a long time, so long it as agonizing, without saying anything, just a pair of eyes dropping down and coming back up by force. Finally, Lena asked.

“Well?”

And that did it. Kara grabbed the top and pulled Lena through the doorway, not stepping back herself so their lips were forced to collide. Lena fell into her, feverish kisses full of desperation, the bottle in her hand dropping and rolling away, the mistletoe still clutched in her now lowering hand fell, too, eventually, when she needed her hand freed up to cup Kara’s face.

_Everything_ was wrong, and this was the only right thing left in the world.

The kiss was everything, and at the same time, nothing like either of them had ever imagined it. It was desperate, it was necessary, it was a long-time nuclear waste warning message, it was the only thing on this Earth and all the others that made sense, though messy and rough. Lena’s hand snaked its way to the back of Kara’s neck, her fingers sliding into her hair, grasping it tight while her tongue demanded access into Kara’s mouth.

Lena’s other hand found its way to the small of Kara’s back, methodically sliding it down from there. Kara’s hands curled into the blood-red neckline of Lena’s shirt, pulling her closer. Lena, in turn, pushed Kara further into the apartment while pulling her deeper into the kiss with the hand in her hair before separating them by yanking Kara’s head back in a swift motion to turn them around so she could push Kara against the wall.

“Ouch,” Kara breathed, “do that again.”

Lena didn’t. Instead, she tugged Kara’s polka-dotted white button-up out of her jeans and ripped open the buttons, eagerly running her hands over the hot skin she’d exposed. Kara responded only with a hungry reunion of their lips. She cupped Lena’s face with both hands, pulling Lena’s bottom lip between her own before sliding her tongue inside her mouth, a collision, a struggle for dominance, nothing short of a war.

Lena unbuckled Kara’s belt. She broke the kiss, sliding her fingers into the hooks of Kara’s jeans to pull them down her hips, and leaned in, her cheek brushing against Kara’s, close enough to whisper into Kara’s ear, a cruelty in her voice that was so new that, for a moment, it scared Kara.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, you’ll spend the rest of your life missing it.”

Kara couldn’t find it in herself to mind. She’d spent the time she’d been without Lena like a craving addict as it was, what difference could it make? All she knew was that she needed to be touched, right now, by Lena and no one else, and if she didn’t get that, she didn’t know what she’d do. Die, in all likelihood. And, like a prayer being answered, Lena’s lips brushed against her jawline, her tongue glided over the soft, supple skin of her collarbone, her teeth grazing over it. She trailed kisses from her shoulder back to her neck, sucking on every pressure point she found, leaving marks in every hue of red and purple all over her skin, like landmarks, like a geographer painting a map of all their explorations. When she opened her eyes to her artwork, she drew in a breath of excitement, scientific curiosity, she’d go on to call it. She wasn’t sure if she could hurt Kara before but this… this was something.

When Kara’s whimpering had become too desperate to bear, though Lena would be lying if she said she didn’t take any pleasure in the mewling sighs, she lowered her lips, trailing absentminded kisses across her chest, her hands playing with Kara’s nipples, then her toned abdomen, all the way down to her soft thighs. She brought her hands to Kara’s hips and bucked her into the wall. Kara opened her legs for her, her jeans falling to the floor. Lena hooked her fingers between the red of her underwear, trailing light gentle kisses along the insides of Kara’s thighs, lips barely brushing against skin.

Kara shivered with anticipation and willed her knees not to buckle already. The hair on her skin rose up as though her apartment was an ice chamber and her hand found its way into Lena’s hair, trying to guide her head so she’d stop teasing already, but Lena wouldn’t give in to the pressure. She didn’t budge before Kara’s eyes had rolled so far back into her head she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get them back.

She planted a kiss through the fabric first, and electricity shot through Kara, bolting her into an upright position. Lena followed with a flat tongue, slow like a river winding. Kara bucked her hips forward and Lena granted her mercy, sliding down the thin, soaked fabric, and bringing her tongue to exposed flesh, gentle and exploring at first, taking her sweet time. As though that wasn’t enough to drive poor Kara insane, she pulled away for a moment just to give Kara a smile, nothing short of evil, before she dove back in, this time forceful, this time concentrated, her tongue swirling, her lips wrapping around her clit and sucking, and Kara had to employ super strength to not buckle and fall. She panted and grabbed Lena’s hair, not for pressure but for stability. She hooked one leg over Lena’s shoulder to give her better access and leaned heavier on the wall, her free hand scratching the wallpaper, trying to grip it for support.

Lena tried a few motions, twirling, sucking, flicking, but nothing messed Kara up like suction so she reverted back to it and didn’t slow down. The pressure building at the bottom of Kara’s stomach was like nothing else. She struggled to hold on for minutes, her breathing growing more ragged with each breath she drew in.

Lena wasn’t satisfied just yet. She kept going until she was eliciting screams and cries of _“Don’t stop!”_ and _“Oh God!”_ so loud that the whole building must’ve heard. The thought of Kara facing them with crimson cheeks the following day made Lena grin. She’d sure made a believer out of her, and all it took was sin.

And then it happened. Kara’s toes curled, her back arched, the pressure broke and showed her mercy. It rushed through her, leaving her pulsing, shaking, screaming. Her legs went weak and her knees buckled, like the ocean washing over her in mighty waves, wearing away at her. She crumbled.

Lena smiled.

She allowed Kara time to recover, though barely. Then, she pulled Kara up from the panting mess on the floor she’d become, into a soft kiss, and brushed a messy strand of hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. Lena sat up on her knees and brought Kara to straddle one of her thighs, their lips enveloped in a kiss that’d evolved from soft to steamy. As if on cue, following an unspoken command, Kara began to buck against her, against the naked skin exposed by Lena’s short skirt.

“I need,” she breathed, the words stolen right out of her mouth by the friction, “I need to feel your skin against mine.”

And Lena allowed it. She allowed Kara to snake her hands underneath her silky top, put her hands up so she could pull it off, their lips still entangled. She allowed Kara to unclasp her bra and remove it in a swift motion, as though she’d practised doing this a hundred times before. In the spirit of fairness, Lena freed Kara of hers just the same.

Kara, still bucking against Lena’s thigh, explored the newly exposed skin with excitement. Her hands caressed Lena’s waist and found their way up to her chest, cupping her breasts like she’d done it a thousand times before. She planted a kiss on the nape of Lena’s neck and stood up, inciting Lena to follow her. They didn’t get far, as soon Lena was pinned against a table, then found herself sitting on it, Kara straddling her thigh her again, building friction, the skin underneath her growing wetter by the second.

Kara kissed her one last time before pulling back and looking Lena in the eyes, uncomfortably close this time.

“I want to make you feel good,” it was a request repackaged as a statement but pending approval from Lena none the less. Though tight-lipped, Lena nodded. Kara forced herself to bite back a smile, afraid her excitement and happiness might rob her of this, might scare Lena away. Instead, she sought skin to plant delicate kisses onto, pausing when she got to Lena’s chest, for a second, to admire, then to wrap her lips around a pink bud and twirl her tongue around it. Lena gasped.

Finally, Kara moved on, down to Lena’s thighs, far from as capable as Lena of containing her excitement. Lena separated her thighs for Kara. She tried her best but after a few pecks on the insides of Lena’s thighs, she dove in, her whole face pressed up against hot, dripping skin.

She explored with her tongue, excited, a little _too_ excited. She found all the right places and god, it felt good. A little _too_ good. Lena felt herself losing control, surrendering power. So instead, she pushed Kara to the floor with her feet, her fall making a heavier thud than expected, and in one swift motion Lena was standing up, towering over her, in another, she was on the floor on top of Kara, their lips united. Lena sunk her teeth into Kara’s bottom lip, just in case she was starting to forget who was in control.

This time she didn’t tease, she brought her face down to the insides of Kara’s thighs as soon as she broke free from the hungry kiss that now tasted of iron. Licking a dot of red off her lip, she dove in. This time, she knew exactly where to go, there was far less exploration, and she brought Kara to her screaming point a lot faster. Before Lena could even ask for permission, Kara’s hand was already guiding her fingers towards herself. Lena started slow, and at first the sensation was only exciting in the newness of it, but after a few strokes, she found the spot that made Kara’s muscles tense just right. Then, she sped up and added a third to two, and with her lips still sucking, her tongue twirling, Kara cried out, her vision going black only for a second so she could see stars in the next.

Lena gave her a moment to recover, trailing kisses around her thighs, sliding her hands under Kara’s back for support, imploring Kara to hook her thighs over Lena’s shoulders, lifting her back from the floor, and the realization that they’re on Kara’s living room floor when there’s a perfectly good bed mere feet from them dawned on neither of them.

When Kara’s breathing had come close to evening out, Lena got back to action. It took less time to send Kara over the cliff each time but watching her crumble was no less satisfying the third time around than it was the first. It was a special kind of pleasure to watch her burn with desire, to see her so powerless and helpless, entirely at Lena’s mercy.

After she’d caught her breath, Kara spoke up, her voice raspy from all the screaming.

“I want to,” she took a moment to breathe, or to gather the courage, “I want to make you feel _good_.”

Lena saw the desperation in her eyes. She smirked. If this was going to happen, it’d happen on her terms. She sat up and nodded. When Kara tried to stand up, she shook her head and pushed her back down.

Lena kneeled over Kara’s shoulders, and Kara buried her face in her. Lena allowed her eyes to close and let herself sink into the sensation, allowed herself to enjoy it but careful at every step. This wasn’t supposed to be life-changing for her. Oh, how she’d like to say it wasn’t.

With her legs shaking, Kara led Lena to her bed. As soon as Lena felt confident in standing upright again, she had Kara pinned down on the bed, straddling her. She kissed her, if it could be called a kiss for all the nibbling and biting, it seemed, almost, as though she were intent on devouring her.

She brought her head down again and led Kara as close to the cliff’s edge as she could, but this time wouldn’t bring her over it. She left Kara like that, on the bed. Out of breath, hanging on to the cliff she was dangling from by a mere finger but unable to let go.

Lena smirked, stood from the bed and walked away. Not facing Kara, she yelled back, “You got a shower in here?”

To which Kara was too spent to give an answer to.

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh feedback vampire, please feed w comments


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